Holed up in what we have designated the “safe room.” It’s actually Jack’s old room and where we stash the stuff we don’t want the movers to pack. My laptop is propped on top of an upright suitcase and I’ve “stolen” a chair from the items to-be-packed.
I can’t believe we are doing this again. Packing it all up and heading out. Months of living out of suitcases in our future — that might be the part that bothers me the most. We have less than two weeks left in Panama.
I would like to say I’m too old for moving our entire life from country to country. Can’t do it anymore. But Dean has proof that I’ve always been like this.
While going through old boxes, Dean found a letter I wrote to him in November of 1991. I was 25 and getting ready to leave Prague to return to California. I had been in Prague since July. I had moved there to work for an English-language paper, and when I bought my one-way ticket from Los Angeles to Prague, I was planning on staying for awhile.
But then I met Dean …
I lasted almost 6 months before the -2 Celsius winter weather, the lack of sunshine and the lack of Dean got to me.
Right there in my own handwriting in this letter from 1991, I describe how I don’t like the packing up and moving, makes me nervous, how much I dread the actual transition part, etc. Apparently, I say it every time I move, no matter how small the move. I was bringing 2 suitcases from Prague. No furniture, no kids, no dog.
Can I really have made it this far in life and just admitted that I don’t like to move around?
The Yerems in Panama 